


pelagic

by hydrobates



Series: case studies on the entities' effect on daemons [1]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Daemons, Daemon Separation, Daemon Touching, Daemons, M/M, aka i cant not get into something and write a daemon au, also the daemon touching is consensual i promise, the summary's pretentious im just a stem major whos doing their best to write okay, this daemon tag empty YEET
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:42:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24007564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hydrobates/pseuds/hydrobates
Summary: pe·lag·ic | \ pə-ˈla-jik  \: of, relating to, or living or occurring in the open seaa personal study on the lonely's effect on daemons
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Series: case studies on the entities' effect on daemons [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1745374
Comments: 4
Kudos: 60





	pelagic

**Author's Note:**

> hi this is my first thing i wrote that i let loose in the world so be gentle. some of the things they say are heavily based/ directly lifted from 158-159, and i dont claim them as my words!
> 
> all im saying is: the lonely fucks up daemons yall

There’s an emptiness inside Martin Blackwood. 

It, like the fog around him, is hard to grasp, hard to comprehend and wrap his mind around. He can’t tell _what_ is missing, really, but he knows _something_ is. But, he thinks, if it’s something he forgot so easily, then it’s not that important, right? 

Right? 

He knew, somewhere inside him, that being so alone was supposed to hurt, supposed to claw at him in a way that could destroy him, and yet, it doesn't. The fog numbs his feelings, making his emptiness feel good, like the moment between sleeping and waking up; that foggy nowhere that feels so comfortable to float in. 

Martin let his eyes close, let his body sink into that comfortable nothingness, and let his thoughts quiet.

* * *

In all the time Jon has known Elias, his osprey daemon has never left the man’s shoulder, claws gripped tight to the padded leather pauldron made specifically for this reason. The pair always looked like the prime example of a white-collar man, with all its pomp and circumstance. There was never a feather out of place, never a loose button or crooked tie. He was emblematic of his position as the head of the Institute. 

It was chilling to see him so calm and composed in this situation, his smile cold and yet welcoming, betraying a cold mirth that Jon hopes he never knows how to feel.

The first thing Jon processes is the voice in the room, but Jon can’t quite parse out the words, too jumbled up for him to understand. The words became clean and defined and he Knew what she was saying in a pained voice.

“I can’t, I can’t- He’s not here- Where is he? I can’t leave him, I can’t-” 

Short, confused little sentences that grip at Jon's heart. Kalahani leapt from his normal position around Jon’s neck and down to the floor where the mess of a daemon — where Evailien, Martin’s daemon lay, with her human nowhere in sight. The pine marten moved close to calm the other bird daemon, giving soft platitudes and physical comfort. Ev’s feathers were lighter than when Jon and Kalahani last saw her, the dark grey faded into a muddled brown.

Jon himself gets on his knees, not caring for the pain or bruising that was sure to follow, his hands hovering over the pile of daemons, not sure where it was okay to touch. But that decision was made for him as the pale storm petrel shuffled to push herself into Jon's hands, finding a small comfort in the man's touch, making small chittering noises. 

A daemon without a human was just as unnerving to see as a human without a daemon. The fact that she was willingly touching another person that wasn't hers for _comfort_ made Jon's stomach turn. He took the two daemons in the ball they curled up into and gave them shelter in his arms, feeling his and Kalahani's combined heartbeats along with the fast, barely-there heartbeat of Martin Blackwood's sou. 

Jon turned to face Elias, furiously glaring at the man looking down on him.

**_“Where is he?”_ **

A 'hmph' from Elias, a self satisfied smirk. He was so emotionally removed from the situation while Jon's insides burned from the anger he held for the man in front of him. The suited man looked so disinterested in the situation, like the cat that got the cream, like the fact that there's a disembodied person's soul writhing in pain in front of him meant nothing. 

"Peter Lukas cast him into the lonely, and I would hurry. Who knows how long he'll last without his daemon." His voice held a sort of rotten glee that Jon wanted to tear out completely, he wanted to grasp that smarmy smile in his own hands and rip it out of him- 

But he was, annoyingly, right. He had no idea how long Martin had cast in the Llonely, untethered from his other half. Jon's eyes leapt between the mess of fur and feathers on the ground and the poised, unbothered figure.

"Then again, going into the Lonely willingly is as good as death. It's your choice, Archivist."

A pause. Jon hated being caught between two situations — he's not a fool. Peter's here because it was his plan; the fact that Martin is in the Lonely is part of it. Why that was so, Jon couldn't piece together yet. He was too close to the situation to see it clearly, too invested to be unbiased and not play straight into Elias'- Jonah's- hands. He's walked into Jonah's trap before, what harm could it to do him if he did it again?

 **_"How do I do it?"_ **Kalahani’s voice reverberated with the compelling.

"Wasn’t too long ago. And I’m sure traces of their passage still remain. Just open your mind. Drink it all in. Know their route, and simply… follow it." 

He felt the knowledge pour into him, the gap between realities open to him like a door, the sandy hills of the Lonely waiting to swallow him whole in it's gaping maw. There's a small part of him that chuckles, that remembers that old statement about a knife that could cut through worlds, and wonders how close to reality that statement really is.

"Very good. Are you scared, Jon?" Jon thought about that, was he afraid of dying again? No, he wasn't. He might be well past being able to die anyways. He faced his death and the possibility of being stuck in another entity's domain once before, what's one more? But he was afraid of one thing. The possibility of Martin being dead, or not wanting to leave. What will become of him without his soul by his side? 

After a long pause, he gave his answer. "Yes." 

Jonas's face nearly split open with the grin he gave, his daemon’s eyes shining. " _Perfect._ "

And Jon stepped into the Lonely, souls in hand. He could hear the faint noise of Jonas laughing behind him, but he couldn't get himself to care. He had someone to meet in the Lonely. 

* * *

There’s a lighthouse now, out in the distance. The light spins in its tower, not quite strong enough to break through the fog but growing stronger and stronger with every revolution. Martin barely notices its light until it shines on the water in front of him, then on him proper, making his head ring with a familiar voice.

“ _Martin!_ ”

Jon's, he realized after a moment. It was quiet, at first, then louder the next time: 

" **_Martin!_** "

He shook his head, the light passing from him and into the grey horizon. Then, a voice he couldn't shake off as easily

" ** _Martin, please!_** "

He froze, realizing finally what it was that was leaving a hole in the pit of his stomach. _Ev_ , he thought, _Oh, how could I forget you, Ev?_ As fast as that thought flashed across his mind, the fog rolled in again, numbing the bone-deep wrongness of not having his daemon by his side.

Once more, the two voices in tandem now, but the sharp pangs of loneliness were dulled. 

“Martin!” 

There’s a man in front of him now, familiar. A part of him is elated at seeing someone else after months and months of being alone, but the feeling was quickly squashed down with the overwhelming feeling of nothing. 

“Jon? Ev?” he asked, voice full of disbelief. He knows he should be feeling some sort of joy, but it was so calm and quiet here that if he felt something too strongly, he felt like he would ruin that calm.

“I— We’re here. We came for you.” There was a bundle, in his arms. An amalgamation of rich brown fur and light grey feathers that made Martin frown. She wasn’t supposed to be here, and yet he yearns to hold the bird daemon in his arms and not let go. 

“Martin! Please— “

“Why?” Martin cut her off, the bird daemon’s voice being too much for him to handle despite only saying a few words. His eyes didn’t leave where Ev was in Jon’s arms, glaring daggers his own soul made physical. She gave a hurt chittering noise, but didn't try to continue talking. 

“Ev was alone and— and—” Jon wasn’t sure how to convey the panic he felt when he saw Ev all alone, writhing on the ground in a mess. 

“Are you real?” The Jon in front of him was blurred at the edges, not quite as vibrant as he should be, This could easily be a test Peter would give him, to test if he was really willing to give everything up for the Lonely. After all, it wouldn’t have mattered if Peter forced him into it, he had to do it willingly. 

“Yes! Yes we-we are. Come on, we’ve got to get out of here.” Jon took a step forward, but he didn’t seem to get any closer to Martin. It was as if Martin was a distant object that was closer to him than he thought, in reality that object was farther away than a few steps. Even so, Martin stepped back, shaking his head. 

“No. No, I don’t think so.”

“Why?” Ev’s voice was quiet, barely overheard above the sound of waves rolling into shore. 

“This is where I should be. It feels right.”

Jon was quick to say different. “Martin, don’t say that”

“Nothing hurts here. It’s just quiet. Even the fear is gentle here.” 

“This isn’t right. This isn’t you.” 

“It is though.” 

“Martin, please come back. I can’t live without you. I’ll never touch you again- never feel your heartbeat or fly with you on walks, you can’t take that ways from me, please-” 

Martin didn’t seem to hear her words, or at least it didn’t seem to affect him. Jon wants so badly to take Martin in his arms and shake some sense into him, make him see that what he was doing was wrong. Martin looked up to look Jon in the eye. His usually bright green eyes were a glassy blue. He gave a soft smile accompanied with a wry laugh. 

“I really loved you, you know?” 

Jon felt like shit. Now that he can give back to Martin, Martin wants nothing to do with him. If the Jon that just became head archivist could know the position he was in now, he would call him delusional and brush it off. 

“Obviously he’s done something. Peter’s Separated you from Ev-” Jon almost growled in frustration. Martin melted into the fog. Peter was just playing with his food now, dangling Martin in front of him like bait. 

“Damn it! Martin! _Martin!_ ”

Ev just gave a wretched sobbing noise, floundering at the lost connection with her human. Han almost had to wrap himself around her to keep her still and safe. 

Jon wouldn’t stop here, he would continue to look for Martin until he could bring both of them home. Whatever that took.

* * *

Peter Lukas, for all his years with the Lonely, didn’t expect to be trapped in it like he has done to many, many others. The story of his life was being pulled out of him, his siblings that he barely remembers, the mother that he barely knew, his daemon. 

His daemon settled as a wandering albatross very young, after his first experience of throwing someone into the lonely. The Lukases never put much thought into daemon settling, seeing daemons as something that impedes The One Alone by giving every person something to be with. So daemons were never given much of a thought, never given a name, never given more than a passing glance. And Peter never looked into it further, happy disbelief in how his soul so perfectly matched his God.

As he neared the end of his story, the bet dealing with the two other men in the Lonely was finally out in the open and his part to play in it was over. Despite his want to make Jon stay in the lonely, the Avatar was stronger than he thought he would be. Well, Peter has a habit of underestimating people. 

Peter regretted very few things as regret was something that people felt, and it was a very long time since Peter Lukas was a person. He regrets not being able to send the _Tundra_ out one last time, sending every single one of the crew members away on a mission with no end, adrift and alone at sea with only each other for company. He regrets, somewhat, not sending his daemon away to sea before all this, so a part of him could be alone forever, not dead in the presence of even another soul.

Those were his last thoughts before he was destroyed by the power of the Ceaseless Watcher, his daemon, as nameless as the day he was born, crumbled into dust. 

* * *

After what feels like an eternity, an eternity of remembering the broken connection and then the fog coming in to help forget before his mind could do nothing but obey, but his heart wants to remember so the cycle starts again, Jon comes back to Martin's Visage. 

This time, he seems almost tangible, almost real. He still doesn't want to reach out and touch, too scared that his hands would pass through instead of hitting something solid. 

“Martin. He’s gone, Martin He- he’s gone.” But Martin wouldn’t look up to him. His gaze lingers on the space where Peter used to be, his body already dissolving into seafoam, his daemon nowhere to be seen, but presumably shattered into Dust. 

“His only wish was to die alone.” 

“ _Tough._ Now- Listen to me, Martin. _Listen._ ” 

Martin looked up and his eyes were still the same glassy blue they were under Peter’s- the Lonely’s influence. They held nothing, reflecting nothing. If the eyes were the window to the soul, then Jon would have to do something, because Martin was not _nothing_. “Hello, Jon.” 

“Listen I know you _think_ you want to be here, I know you think it’s safer and well- well, maybe it is. But we need you. _I_ need you. And Ev needs you most of all.”

“No, you don’t. Not really. Everyone’s alone but we all survive.” 

“I don’t just want to _survive_!” 

“I’m sorry.”

“Martin.” He said, with urgency. Carefully shifting the two daemons so that they would be safe in the crook of one arm, the other reaching out to hold Martin’s face in his hand, giving a sigh of relief that his hand met skin. “Martin, look at me. Look at me and **_tell me what you see._ **”

“I see...” Jon watched as the color in Martin’s eyes melted, the warm green coming back to overtake icy blue. “I see you, Jon.” Martin seems to come to a realization with some joy, giving an incredulous chuckle, one of his hands moving to hold the one Jon held to the side of his face.

“I see you.” 

“Martin.” Jon let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

“I.. I was on my own. I was all on my own. Without, oh god, _Ev_.”

Martin’s eyes widened, desperately searching for Evailien.The sudden remembrance of his daemon made him reach out to hold the petrel in his arms, fingers brushing on Kalahani’s fur. Jon would think back to this moment and realize, with surprise, that there wasn’t the disgust that came with someone else touching his daemon to a strange nothingness. 

Jon watched on as Martin held his daemon close, quiet words being exchanged by the two, and held his own daemon close to him, the feeling of skin on fur a great comfort to him. The archivist backed away, letting the two of them have the little bit of privacy he could give them. When he felt like a proper amount of time had passed, Jon stepped forwards, lightly brushing Martin’s arm. Martin reached up to grip his hand in turn, grip tight, 

Ev was now perched on Martin’s shoulder, pressed so close to Martin’s neck that it looks like it should hurt, she looked unshakable. Martin looked close to his old self, comparatively technicolor to where he was before. 

“Come on. Let’s go home.” _Home,_ where Martin belonged. Not in the unending quiet of the lonely.

“How?” 

“Don’t worry.” Jon gave Martin a soft smile. "I know the way.”

**Author's Note:**

> i have many notes over the daemon au for no reason,, its taken over my brain. id love to hear what yall thing of my daemon assignments. might do a follow up??? because theres like so much i havent gotten into
> 
> jon: [european pine marten; ](https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/23/2019/10/GettyImages-612035490_Richard-McManus-d4d5a9e-e1570191073976.jpg?quality=90&resize=620%2C413)Kalahani or Han  
> martin: [fork-tailed storm petrel](https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-u3-iZ9DE5TE/TaHR68GT58I/AAAAAAAABAo/YNaVKGUu6Hw/s1600/Fork-tailed%2Bstorm-petrel%2BOceanodroma%2Bfurcata.jpg); Evailien or Ev  
> elias: [osprey](https://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/assets/og/75712441-1200px.jpg) ???  
> peter:[ wandering albatross](https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/e/e4/Diomedea_exulans_3_-_SE_Tasmania.jpg/440px-Diomedea_exulans_3_-_SE_Tasmania.jpg) ???


End file.
